


Anywhere, Anyway

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Carlos, Bad Jokes, Car Sex, Carlos has anxiety, Cecil Is Not Described, Cecil Is Not Subtle, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, Dom Carlos, Dry Humping, Fluff and Smut, I'm Going to Hell, Kinda, Lab Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Phone Sex, Revenge Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in The Booth, Sloppy Makeouts, Sub Cecil, Teasing, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, on the air
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5580007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of smutty ficlets in a variety of settings.</p><p>AKA: Lots of Cecilos sex in lots of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Booth

Carlos seemed to be having the longest day of his life. 

Thanks to a rather inappropriate Snapchat that morning, he’d spent the whole day thinking about Cecil. He’d been minding his own business, jotting down data and heating beakers, when his pocket had buzzed. After completely the needed tasks to stabilize his experiment, he sat down to check his phone. Cecil had sent a picture from home, a Snap that lasted only three seconds, which consisted of Cecil’s naked lower half. Carlos was immediately grateful that no one was peeking over his shoulder. His face burned with embarrassment, caught off guard by the risqué photo. 

After his astonishment faded, however, he was left wanting more. He replayed the photo and took a screenshot, which he privately glanced at every hour or so. When the need became too unbearable, he took care of his erections in the bathroom. But that was no substitute for the real thing.

When he was done at the lab, Carlos went straight home. He knew that Cecil wouldn’t be there yet, but he couldn’t stand waiting longer than necessary. He sat patiently in the living room, listening to Cecil’s show. The radio host’s sultry voice lulled him into a sort of erotic hypnosis, his erection pressing up against his jeans. 

“Listeners, make sure you stay tuned next,” Cecil said. “As you already know, tonight’s show is a double feature. That means we get to spend another half hour together after the short break. I look forward to it, Night Vale. Twice the time pondering our horrifying existences.”

Carlos’ jaw dropped open. The show was going to be twice as long. He would have to wait twice as long for Cecil to get home. He groaned and stood up, intending to take care of himself in the bathroom again.

As he made his way down the hallway, his mind raced. Cecil had sent that Snapchat on the worst day possible. He had left Carlos horny for hours, and was going to leave him that way for even longer. It was like Cecil had done it on purpose.  
Carlos stopped walking at the realization. It was exactly like Cecil had done it on purpose; He had planned this. He had delayed Carlos’ release for longer than normal simply to be a tease.

Carlos turned on his heel and left the apartment, barely pausing to lock the door behind him. He got into his car and drove directly to the Night Vale public radio station in a matter of minutes. He parked as close to the front as possible, walked inside, and went to the recording booth. Nobody else seemed to be in the building, he noticed, as the show was running later than usual.

Inside the booth, Carlos saw that Cecil was back on air. He was leaned back in his chair confidently, a relaxed smile on his face. The man seemed completely unaware of the havoc he’d caused. While he obviously had many more years of practice controlling himself for the sake of radio, Carlos was astounded that he seemed so unaffected.

Carlos stepped up close to the booth window, making sure he was in Cecil’s line of vision. Cecil did not stop talking, but made eye contact with Carlos. His calm smile twisted into a devilish smirk, eyes glinting. He ran a hand through his hair, twisted a lock flirtatiously as he continued speaking. Carlos clenched his fists, self-control wearing thin. The radio host did not break eye contact, batting his long lashes and undoing the top buttons of his shirt. His mouth seemed to form words more expressively, tongue flitting about behind the movement of his full, languid lips. 

Carlos couldn’t take it anymore. Cecil’s eyebrows rose in amusement as he forced open the booth door and marched up to the microphone.  
“We’ll be right back after a message from our sponsors,” Carlos said quickly, before pulling off Cecil’s headphones and gesturing to the equipment.

Cecil made a face of mock surprise, but complied. He flicked a switch to turn off the microphone, and then played a commercial.

“Oh, my, Carlos. To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?” he asked, sarcasm practically visible in his words.

As an answer, Carlos bent down over Cecil’s chair and kissed him passionately. He felt his erection twitch in anticipation, eager for the long-needed release.

“Oh god, Cecil… you don’t even know what you do to me,” he panted between kisses. His hands were in Cecil’s hair, whose own hands came to rest on Carlos’ hips. They kissed hungrily, Carlos’ tongue dominated Cecil’s, teeth catching his bottom lip and eliciting a soft gasp. Carlos turned their position so that Cecil’s chair was leaned against the desk, the two men still facing each other.

“What did I do wrong?” Cecil asked with a fake pout, unable to totally suppress his grin. 

Carlos pulled Cecil’s legs up around his waist and leaned over him, grinding his crotch down on Cecil’s. The moan Carlos received was proof that, despite his calm demeanor, Cecil was just as excited. And if the hardness in Cecil’s pants was any indicator, there was no point waiting any longer.

Carlos grinded harder, moving his hips for optimal pressure. Cecil hooked his feet behind Carlos, wrapping his arms around his neck and pushing forward. His eyes squeezed shut with each bout of pressure, embarrassingly loud whines echoing from the studio walls.

“Ah! A-alright, Carlos, I need to get back to my show,” Cecil pleaded weakly.

Carlos reached over Cecil to the sound equipment, pressing the button Cecil had pressed before.

“Alright,” he said, almost inaudibly. “The microphone is on again.”

Cecil let out a long sigh to steady his voice before reaching back to grab the microphone.

“Thank you again to all our sponsors. We couldn’t do it without you. Your chanting literally fuels the equipment of our station, and without you, we’d be sitting in a useless, decrepit husk of a building. We couldn’t even call it a radio station.”

Carlos listened to Cecil for a bit, impressed with how he had recovered his radio voice so quickly. After a few minutes, though, he got sick of waiting. His erection wasn’t going anywhere, thanks to their brief encounter, and Cecil seemed equally erect. He knelt down and popped Cecil’s pants open, roughly grabbing his cock.

Cecil’s speaking deteriorated instantly. His mellow drawl dissolved into surprised mewls, followed by sputtered gibberish.

“A-a-ah, that is, t-to say, um! I mean…oh, fu--,” he tried pushing Carlos away with his one free hand. “Another commercial. Another break, y-yeah?”

After hastily flipping the switch, Cecil pounced down on Carlos. He pinned the scientist onto the floor, leaving their faces inches apart.

“Now, dear Carlos, that’s hardly fair,” Cecil began. Carlos didn’t bother listening, and instead, grabbed Cecil’s erection once more. Cecil’s scolding dissolved back into unintelligible noises, a blush blooming across his face. He could barely say a word as Carlos stroked his length roughly, easing them up to a sitting position and kissing him once more.

“You made me wait all day, dear,” Carlos said. “No more waiting.”

He pulled out his erection, too, before holding their cocks together and jacking them off simultaneously. Cecil was still clutching Carlos’ shoulders, thrusting wildly up into Carlos’ hand. Carlos pulled him into his lap to get them closer, alternately nibbling Cecil’s neck and whispering curses in his ear.

“Carlos, oh fuck, Carlos,” Cecil choked out. “J-just finish me, please, oh gods, I’m sorry I made you wait!”

Carlos slowed his hand down, holding their cocks tighter and grinning. He entwined his free hand in Cecil’s hair, pulling his head closer, before breathing in his ear: “Saying ‘sorry’ won’t stop your ass from getting pounded into the bed tonight, my little slut.”

With that, Cecil orgasmed into Carlos’ hand, biting his lip to hold in a shout. Cecil’s nails dug into Carlos’ arms, nearly breaking skin, as his hips bucked a few more times of their own accord. Carlos came too, enjoying Cecil’s lost composure.

He bent down and lapped up some of the mess, not so cruel as to let Cecil sit in his own cum for the rest of the show. He redid Cecil’s pants for him, and then redid his own, before helping Cecil back into his chair. He put the headphones back onto his shaken boyfriend.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Carlos chided. Cecil nodded with a defeated smile, still in his haze of pleasure. Carlos patted his head, kissed him on the cheek, and added one more thing before leaving.

“I was serious, though, Ceec,” he said. “Later, you’re getting fucked.”

Cecil watched Carlos go, eyes wide.


	2. In the Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and Cecil take a tiny vacation from the chaos of Night Vale.

After a particularly hectic week in Night Vale, Carlos felt his energy lagging. The stress of several back-to-back disasters took its toll on him, and he decided it would be good for him and Cecil to get away for a bit. He knew they couldn’t leave town, as there seemed to be some strange space-time anomaly preventing entrance or exit. That didn’t really matter, though. They just needed time away from the chaos, time to relax and simply to be together. So, after dinner one night, Carlos told Cecil what he was thinking.

Cecil agreed without a second thought, but was equally unsure of how to accomplish the getaway. They both had to work the next day, and hadn’t planned ahead for any sort of vacation. Cecil was listing off ideas when Carlos settled on what to do.

“Well, we can go out for some dessert, but there’s nothing saying a disaster won’t hit the restaurant,” Cecil pondered aloud. “We can go visit Janice, but Steve’s not exactly relaxing to be around. We could go bowling, but I know you’re tense around Lane 5, so maybe not that. We could go… umm… we could go…”

“We could go,” Carlos said simply. “We can just…go for a drive. A drive around town would be nice, maybe, or out to Radon Canyon. For a little bit, anyway.”

Cecil smiled.

“Whatever you think is best, Carlos,” he said.

They turned off the lights, said goodbye to Khoshekh, and packed a bag with blankets and water. Then, they got in Carlos’ car and drove. They drove through Old Town Night Vale, admiring the radioactive glow of the ancient homes there. They drove by Josie’s and wondered if she was home, but decided against checking, in case of ongoing angelic business. They drove by the waterfront recreation area, and waved out at the sand wastes, where a short, stout man was shampooing the top of a cactus.

Most of the time, they talked. Some of the time, they didn’t talk. The silence was a much-needed break from the screams and howls of a regular day in Night Vale. All the while, the void watched them, indifferent but accepting in its cold eternity.

Eventually, they ended up by Radon Canyon. The lights were unusually active that night, dancing through the darkness in a rainbow of colors. They looked as though they could have been a cousin of the Glow Cloud-- a happier, less angry cousin of the Glow Cloud.

“Cecil,” Carlos said, not really thinking. “When I came here, I was so afraid. Night Vale is scary compared to my hometown; comparing the two towns on my Danger Meter shows about a five-point difference. Night Vale is a very dangerous place. When I experienced daily life here firsthand, my anxiety seemed to triple from its normal stasis. Everything here is different from home.”

“Everything is different from everything,” Cecil concurred, offering a smile. “It’s all very hard to get used to, Carlos.”

Carlos nodded and continued: “After all the weirdness I’ve experienced, I’m still terrified. But you’ve helped me feel safer here, Cecil. You’re just as unique as this town, and yet, I know you belong in my life. I know that all of this, all of us, is the way it is. I don’t know if that’s how it’s meant to be, but it is. And I think it will continue to be. And knowing that helps me relax when I feel overwhelmed.”

Cecil was watching him, enamored. 

Carlos realized he’d been ranting, then, and grew self-conscious. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment, and was about to turn his head away, when Cecil gingerly took ahold of his chin. Carlos’ mouth fell open again, panicking at the continued silence, but Cecil calmed him with a kiss. Cecil kissed him just once, just gently, on the lips. The same kiss Carlos had given him after their first date.

“Cecil… I,” Carlos began. He was not allowed to finish.

Cecil pulled Carlos into his lap and began kissing him again, warmly and fully. Wet, staccato sounds of lips together filled the car’s interior. Their breath quickened, eyes fluttering. They tried to watch the other’s reactions while also committing all other senses to memory. They wanted to live in the moment, that moment of their own universe, forever. 

Carlos let out a slight gasp as Cecil’s tongue prodded at his lip, seeking entrance. He obliged, letting their moment happen. Cecil’s hands were under Carlos’ shirt, palms flat on the small of his back. Carlos felt his body reacting to the sudden change of mood, his blush remaining, and a hardness growing in his crotch. Hands shaking slightly, he grabbed Cecil’s shoulders to ground himself, feeling Cecil smile through their kiss.

“Carlos,” Cecil said between his fervent kisses, “I want to make you feel safe forever.”

Carlos squeezed his eyes shut to hide his tears of joy, and kissed Cecil back more passionately. He loved Cecil, he loved him so much, and he wanted to be as close to him as possible. Cecil moaned appreciatively at the renewed spark between them, eager to move further. They were alone, after all, and they had no time limit. So long as they were home by morning, they could make up their own schedule. 

As Cecil’s hands slid beneath his waistband, Carlos pushed down on him, assuring that he was just as ready to continue. Cecil chuckled and pulled one hand away for long enough to lay the car seat down. Gravity was working fairly normal that day, so Carlos lay down with the movement of the seat, the front of his body pressing to Cecil’s. The radio host trailed his kisses down Carlos’ face, moving to suck tenderly at his neck. Carlos savored the tingling sensation, the pressure on his skin, the hands now rubbing his back.

“Carlos,” Cecil murmured in his ear, “what do you want to do?”

The question wasn’t meant to tease or prod. It was an honest question. Cecil was attuned to the nights when Carlos was more fragile. He knew that sometimes, Carlos didn’t want to have sex, despite bodily signals. He understood.

Carlos stroked Cecil’s hair while he gathered his flustered thoughts. The options were endless, of course, as they were both comfortable with a wide range of sexual acts. Carlos knew that he wanted to be face-to-face with his lover on that night. He wanted to know that Cecil cared about him, and he wanted to prove that he cared for Cecil, too.

“Can I…” Carlos looked out the back window to avoid eye contact, awful at dirty talk. “Can I ride you, Ceec?”

In reaction, Cecil made a noise in the back of his throat, a noise that sounded both surprised and pleased.

“Of course,” Cecil said.

Together, they got Carlos’ pants and underwear off. Cecil began undressing as well, pulling his shirt over his head. Carlos returned Cecil’s earlier affections, kissing at his neck as he undid Cecil’s pants. When he pulled out Cecil’s cock, he heard Cecil suck in a breath, a sharp hiss of air between clenched teeth. He stroked the length a few times before releasing it, and then he took Cecil’s hand up to his mouth.

“Help me get ready?” Carlos asked, licking at Cecil’s fingers to moisten them thoroughly.

“Oh, yes, Carlos,” Cecil choked out, his arousal becoming unbearable.

Carlos ran his hands over Cecil’s form while his ass was prepped, feeling the addition of fingers one by one. Cecil’s long middle finger managed to graze Carlos’ prostate, and he whined with need.

“I-I’m ready now,” Carlos insisted.

Cecil held Carlos’ thighs while he maneuvered up, steadying himself over his boyfriend. Carlos took Cecil’s cock in his hand behind him and spread some of the precum over the head before lowering himself onto it until he was fully seated. He remained still for a minute or so, adjusting to the strange position they were in, muscles throbbing slightly. Then, when he felt adequately balanced, he rolled his hips up and lowered them again, setting a steady pace.

Carlos held Cecil’s shoulders once more, biting his lip to hold in the sounds of pleasure threatening to leave him. Cecil, however, was not restraining himself. His volume was rising steadily, moans and curses and “I love you”s and Carlos’ name. Carlos allowed himself to be heard more as they moved together, remembering that no one would overhear them.

“Cecil, I love you so much,” he managed, trying to keep his eyes open.

He watched Cecil’s expression, looks of ecstasy bordering on pain. He was obviously holding back for Carlos’ sake.

Carlos stopped moving and leaned down towards Cecil.

“You can push up too, baby,” he said.

Cecil gave him a look of uncertainty, but Carlos only smiled, restarting his movement. Cecil was unable to resist thrusting up, then, having been given permission. He pushed his cock all the way into Carlos, not too roughly, but quickly. He angled himself to pleasure Carlos to the fullest, all too familiar with his lover’s body.

It wasn’t long before Carlos was seeing stars, body growing exhausted, and orgasm quickly nearing. He lowered his top half so their chests were touching, continuing to rock his ass back onto Cecil. The rhythm he’d set was devolving into bursts of speed alternating with near stillness. Cecil gripped Carlos’ ass tight and compensated for him, bracing his feet on the car’s dashboard to buck up into Carlos. The whole vehicle shuddered with them.

Carlos knew his body couldn’t keep up for much longer. The stress of the previous week was making itself known again, and he felt his erection ebbing slightly. He desperately tried to hold himself up for Cecil, ultimately failing.

Cecil released half of his hold on Carlos’ ass to give Carlos’ cock attention. He grasped it firmly, giving it a good few pumps. His erection came back instantaneously. That touch was all Carlos needed as motivation to finish.

“Cecil…harder,” he said, back to his full state of arousal. “Fuck me harder.”

Cecil groaned as if the request hurt him physically, pleased to know Carlos was enjoying their sex as much as he was. He held Carlos’ hips still and put his whole body into it, back arching up, touching the seat with only his shoulders and head.

Carlos was unable to keep his eyes open as his climax approached, a metaphorical coil in his lower gut ready to snap. Instead of losing Cecil behind his closed eyes, Carlos sloppily kissed him. They kissed as if they had no experience, making a mess and clashing teeth together. It was unskilled but appropriate, as they both pushed together forcefully once more before they hit their climax together. Cecil had to stop kissing, head falling back as he gasped. Carlos was able to watch the beautiful scene before him as his own orgasm rocked him, all of his muscles clenching and unclenching erratically. His cum came in spurts, spattering Cecil’s chest, until his high began to fade.

The car was still again, it’s windows now fogged up, its interior now smelling like the musk of sex. The lights continued to flutter around the sky outside, uncaring of what was done below. After pulling off of Cecil’s softening cock, Carlos laughed a bit.

“We kinda made a mess, huh, Ceec?” he said.

Cecil laughed too, touching the sticky cum on his belly.

“Well, I think it was worth it. Don’t you, dear Carlos?”

Carlos smiled bigger and nodded. This drive was exactly what they’d need. They’d gotten away, they’d spent time together, they’d appreciated the quiet outside of town…and they’d certainly unwound from the stress of the week, in their own special way.  
 


	3. In a Tent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and Cecil have to share a sleeping bag. What could possibly go wrong?

The sun screamed loudly as it set over Night Vale, a constant noise echoing over the expanse of desert. Carlos used to be alarmed by this unusual phenomenon, but after living in Night Vale for several years, he grew used to it. He still questioned the cause of it, but did not act on his curiosity. After all, he was a scientist, not an astronomer.

Carlos’ occupation was the very reason he was out that evening. Earl Harlan had invited him out on a field trip with the Night Vale Boy Scout troop. He’d wanted Carlos to teach the scouts some scientific survival tricks.

Naturally, the scouts already knew basic survival skills. But, getting lost in Night Vale was a dangerous business. Carlos showed them how to find their home dimension (in case of wandering into an alternate timeline), how to tell if the sun was real (you just have to ask, really), and how to start a fire underwater. 

The lessons were a trick to deliver, as everyone was wearing earplugs. The field trip was taking place in the depths of the whispering forest, which was best known for its auditory hypnotic tendencies. It was also known for luring victims inside and keeping them for eternity by turning them into trees. However, this would not be an issue, as the group was only staying overnight.

Carlos had talked Cecil into staying home that night. It had been Earl’s idea, knowing as well as Carlos that the radio host seemed especially susceptible to mind control, and he didn’t do well without the use of his ears. Speaking and listening were his life, after all. So, when he left home, Carlos had brought with a single tent and a single sleeping bag.

This only became an issue when the troop began setting up camp. The last wisps of daylight peeked between the trees’ branches like searchlights as they all pitched their tents. A freshly made bonfire crackled and popped in the middle of the campsite. Of course, none of them could hear this. And, none of them heard the snapping of branches as someone trudged clumsily through the forest towards them. It was only when Carlos felt a tap on his shoulder that he became aware of the visitor.

Carlos turned, expecting to see one of the scouts, or Earl. Instead, he saw his boyfriend standing there, leaves in his hair and a few scrapes on his arms. He smiled widely and hugged Carlos before holding him at arms’ length. He had on a large pair of noise cancelling headphones.

Carlos made a perplexed expression, unable to ask Cecil what he was doing there.

Cecil shrugged and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Carlos could guess this meant something like: “I just happened to be here, too, isn’t that funny?” or, “You didn’t think I’d let you risk your life without me, did you? How silly.”

Carlos rolled his eyes too, sarcastically. He wasn’t angry, really, but slightly miffed. It wasn’t that he wanted to spend time away from Cecil, but he didn’t like putting him in harm’s way. As far as Carlos was concerned, spending that night apart would have meant keeping Cecil safe. Carlos was glad to see him, but he was worried about him. Still, since it was dark, Carlos would not send him home. 

Earl Harlan stepped near the fire, his shadow looming out over the group. He made a series of gestures that indicated it was time for bed, and that they’d done a good job today, and that they’d leave at sunrise. As the scouts crawled into their tents, Earl waved to Carlos and Cecil, giving them a smile. The smile seemed forced.

The two men waved back, and Earl retreated to his tent, casting a few forlorn glances back. Cecil didn’t notice, as he was already in Carlos’ tent. Carlos held the door flap for him before following and zipping them in. He turned on the small lantern hanging from the roof. Cecil took out his phone and typed quickly before handing it to Carlos.

“Sorry about coming out here, Carlos. I promise I won’t take off the headphones,” it said. There were emojis after the words, a little man wearing a mind-control device on his head and two hearts. Carlos couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s alright, hon. I just want you to be safe,” he typed, and gave the phone back.

Cecil sighed, an action that was more than just sound, but also body language. Carlos saw his chest expand with the intake of oxygen, the slight tilt of Cecil’s head, and the look of loving exasperation.

Carlos gestured at the sleeping bag to indicate that they ought to sleep, and then began undressing for the night. Cecil followed suit, carefully removing his shirt in a way that didn’t disturb his headphones. Carlos peeked over a few times just to make sure Cecil wasn’t showing any signs of hypnosis.

Cecil crawled into the sleeping bag first, and then moved as far over as he could. Carlos tucked his feet inside, scooting forward bit by bit. As he tried to put his hips in, it became a tight fit. He pursed his lips and held the hem of the sleeping bag, wiggling in an attempt to squeeze in. Cecil began laughing, but turned on his side and tried to make himself smaller. He held onto Carlos’ waist and pushed down towards the foot of the sleeping bag, pulling him in the last few inches.

By then, Carlos was laughing too, his shirt and pants mussed up from the endeavor. The two faced each other in the too-tight sleeping bag, laughing as if they were as young as the Boy Scouts neighboring them. Cecil nuzzled the top of Carlos’ head, burying his face in the curly mess of hair. Carlos blushed, reaching down to fix his twisted clothes. He managed to pull his shirt down over his tummy before he started on his waistband, which was uncomfortably ridden up. Cecil pecked Carlos’ forehead, wrapping him up in his arms. Carlos, having fixed his pants, began extracting his arms from the sleeping bag to return the embrace. In the process, his hands bumped against Cecil. More specifically, they bumped against the beginnings of Cecil’s erection. It seemed that in the excitement of getting into the sleeping bag, he’d gotten a bit worked up. Cecil let of a little huff at the contact and the air brushed across Carlos’ face and neck.

Carlos turned his head up, searching Cecil’s face for some indicator of what they should do next. Cecil’s pupils had expanded, though Carlos couldn’t tell if that was due to the dim tent, or due to arousal. But, when Cecil reached down and put Carlos’ hand back on his crotch, he knew Cecil was aroused.

Carlos barely had time to register the mood change before he was caught up in a deep kiss, Cecil’s tongue ghosting across his lower lip. Carlos’ eyes shot wide open in surprise, but as the kiss progressed, his eyes closed. He opened his mouth slightly to let Cecil explore, slipping his hand into Cecil’s pants and teasing at his cock, now fully hard.

Cecil was kissing and turning his head, tugging at Carlos’ mouth in ways that left him breathless. Carlos couldn’t hear Cecil, and was glad that no one else could either, as he tended to make quite a racket during sex. Cecil reached above them and turned off the lantern, leaving them in the warm glow of the campfire. He then rolled up on top of Carlos, straddling his waist and propping himself up on his elbows. The cool air on his back sent a shudder through his body, which Carlos gratefully received.

The scientist was now adequately erect too, and ran his hands back to Cecil’s ass. He squeezed and urged Cecil’s hips forward, bending his knees for leverage before pushing up against him. Carlos noticed the glimmer of teeth as Cecil bit his own lip in reaction. Cecil pushed down on Carlos, their erections grinding together behind the layers of clothes. It was Carlos’ turn to made noise, then, as he moaned. Instead of hearing the sound, he felt it, the vibration thrumming upward from his chest. Cecil continued his ministrations, rocking back and forth against Carlos steadily, drawing out the friction of the movements.

Carlos could feel each puff of breath from Cecil, but the darkness made it impossible to see his lover in detail. He reached a hand out and placed it on the side of Cecil’s face, running his fingers carefully over the surface. He felt Cecil’s jaw, working to form the words Cecil must have been moaning. He felt his smooth cheeks, warmer than usual. He felt his soft lips, damp from their kisses. As he touched Cecil’s lips, they closed around Carlos’ index finger. Carlos took in the feeling of the slick, wet heat, and added his middle finger as well, which Cecil gladly took.

Carlos bucked up against Cecil then, perhaps fueled by the remaining bit of annoyance he still felt from the unsanctioned visit. Cecil gripped the fabric of the sleeping bag, the pressure making him dizzy with lust. Carlos took the opportunity to pull his hand back from Cecil’s face and weave it back down to Cecil’s ass, were he ran his wet fingers across his entrance.

This time, instead of gripping the sleeping bag, Cecil gripped Carlos’ hair, and pulled. Carlos’ hips shot up involuntarily at the sensation, the pain making his cock twitch in arousal. Each touch seemed twice as intense in the darkness, both of them inhibited by their lack of sight and sound. As Carlos pushed his fingers into Cecil, he felt the resulting thrust through his whole body.

The radio host was now torn between pushing forward or back, his desire to be full conflicting with his need for friction. The competing drives had him on the brink of orgasm, hips alternating between fucking himself back on Carlos’ fingers and dry humping erratically.

Carlos felt the heat in the sleeping bag becoming nearly unbearable, felt the growing wetness in his crotch, felt Cecil’s muscles working around his fingers. He curled his fingers up, searching for his prostate. When Cecil mewled so loudly that Carlos heard him through his earplugs, he knew he’d found it. He pushed and stroked it mercilessly, Cecil coming apart over him. Carlos used his free hand to push Cecil’s ass down so he could buck up against him once more, ready to climax.

The rhythm between them disintegrated as Cecil came violently, limbs failing and causing him to lay on top of Carlos. Carlos pulled his fingers out carefully, then worked to finish himself. He began fucking up against any part of Cecil he found: his crotch, his thighs, his sharp hipbones. Carlos dug his fingertips into Cecil’s lower pack, pushed up once more with all his strength, and finally reaching his own orgasm.

Weak and out of breath, Cecil rolled off of Carlos, spooning him from behind. Carlos curled back into Cecil, disregarding the wetness in his pants. They could clean up when they got home. He was no longer worried for Cecil, as he knew the forest wouldn’t be able to wake him after their exhausting encounter.

The scouts never heard the two men, and the two men never heard the trees, but the trees heard them. The trees were rather impressed, actually. The next morning, the forest respectfully allowed the group to leave, not even attempting to hypnotize them.


	4. In a Jail Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you read the title right. The imminent threat of Valentine's Day has Cecil dragging Carlos down into the abandoned Night Vale mine.
> 
> You can guess what happens next.

Carlos stared up at the narrow, barred window set into the stone walls of the cell. He knew he couldn’t leave yet, despite the unlocked door behind him. Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh, and then leaned back, thinking about the unlikely events that had ended in that moment.

Just hours ago, he’d woken up like normal. He got dressed like normal, brushed his hair like normal, and ate breakfast like normal. As he was washing his dishes, Cecil had come down from their bedroom, moving unusually fast for the time of day.

“Carlos,” Cecil said, urgency in his voice. “Carlos, we need to leave soon. Are you packed?”

Carlos turned off the sink and looked at Cecil. The expression of his face worked in tandem with his brain as he tried to remember whether they’d planned a trip for that day. Nothing was coming to mind.

“Go where?” Carlos asked, cautiously.

Cecil’s face was now lighting up in panic, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Something terrible is about to happen, Carlos. Something big,” Cecil said, as if it was obvious. “We need to go. I’ll get your bag, please hurry up!”

Carlos had no chance to inquire further as Cecil darted from the room.

Within minutes, they were making their way through Night Vale, and then, out of Night Vale, to the abandoned mineshaft-turned-prison. Cecil drove the car into the adjacent parking ramp (the City Council’s latest project) and hopped out, nearly leaving the keys in the ignition. On the way there, Carlos had remained silent, afraid of causing more anxiety for his boyfriend.

The two hustled into the underground structure, barely slowing to greet the Secret Police in the reception area, and made their way to the old elevator built into the caves.

While the rusty machine lowered them into the Earth’s belly, Carlos took Cecil’s hand and gently tugged to draw his attention.

“Honey. I understand that we’re here because there’s some trouble coming. But shouldn’t we stay out there to help? Shouldn’t you be talking the town through this? We didn’t even get my science equipment. What if people need us?”

Cecil stared at Carlos, expression changing from fear into astonishment. 

“Carlos,” Cecil whispered, as if they weren’t the only two sentient beings in the immediate vicinity. “It’s Valentine’s Day, remember?”

Carlos physically took a step back. He’d forgotten completely. Memories of the past Valentine’s Days in Night Vale swam through his mind, all gore and screaming and earth-shaking terror. Confetti soaked in blood and arrows decked out with heart decorations. The screeching cherub-harpies that had killed dozens were the worst creatures he’d ever laid eyes on. Carlos remembered.

“I…” Carlos cleared his throat to regain his composure. “I forgot.”

The elevator had come to a halt during their conversation, and Carlos took a few seconds to notice. They pushed the grated door to the side and stepped out into darkness, Cecil pulling a flashlight from his jacket and leading Carlos by the hand down the hallway.

“The longer partners have been together, the more immediate the danger of this day,” Cecil said gravely, his usual cordial tone gone.

Carlos nodded, though Cecil could not see him in the shadows.

They reached an area with cells built into the walls, solitary confinement areas meant for exceptionally dangerous criminals. The doors were solid iron, with only a slot halfway down the surface for sliding in meals, and a single window in the wall of each cell. Cecil opened the door to one room, gesturing for Carlos to step in. Carlos thought he saw lines down the door, five parallel lines, as if an inmate had gouged the plane with their fingernails.

“We’re here all day, then?” Carlos whispered. The darkness and negativity of their situation lowered his voice. “Did you bring water?”

Cecil’s cold demeanor cracked at the question. Carlos sounded so scared. He hadn’t meant for that to happen.

“Of course, dear Carlos. Five bottles for each of us,” he patted the large duffle bag hanging from his shoulder before setting it in the corner of their cell, and pulling out a battery-powered lantern for better lighting. The room appeared to be a square, each wall eight feet wide.

They sat in the cell together, trying not to think of the carnage that was sure to unravel above. Carlos glanced at the small window near the ceiling, which looked out onto more concrete. The two men chatted and snacked together, telling stories. Cecil talked, mostly. Carlos loved his stories. In the silence between all these things, Carlos thought.

He thought about Valentine’s Day before he came to Night Vale. Those days had been painful, as he celebrated with friends and family, but never a lover. Now, he had Cecil. But he still couldn’t celebrate properly.

“Ceec,” Carlos said softly, no longer whispering. “Want to hear a story of mine?”

Cecil was all too eager to hear about Carlos’ life before Night Vale. Though hardly as interesting as Cecil’s past, it was a part of Carlos that he wanted to share.

Carlos told Cecil about Valentine’s Day in the outside world. He told him about the cards, and the candy, and the romance. How couples made it a big deal and singles made it a bigger deal. How it was a different type of big deal than in Night Vale.

Cecil listened to Carlos talk for nearly an hour about his loneliness, his willingness to celebrate with someone and never getting the chance. He felt responsible, somehow, but knew that it was misplaced guilt.

“What do most couples do for Valentine’s Day, then, Carlos?” Cecil said, holding Carlos’ hands in his. “Tell me what you missed out on because of Night Vale.”

Carlos furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s not because of Night Vale,” he said, soundly slightly offended. “Don’t think that, sweetheart. I’d rather be with you here than alone out there any day.”

“Alright,” Cecil conceded, though only partly convinced. “But tell me anyway, Carlos. I’d like to celebrate like that with you.”

Carlos raised one eyebrow skeptically.

“Celebrate Valentine’s Day?” he asked.

“Well, on a different day, of course,” Cecil said, grinning now.

“Oh, alright. Couples cook for each other. Breakfast in bed, you know,” Carlos said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “They give each other flowers and sweets, then they go out on fun dates. To nice restaurants or movies or both, sometimes, if that’s something they decide to do.”

Cecil kissed Carlos’ knuckles as he listened, peppering the backs of his hands with gentle pecks.

“What happens after that?” Cecil urged, glad that Carlos was in a better mood. “Hurricanes of champagne? A stampede of rabid, mad, plush animals?”

Carlos giggled.

“No, silly Ceec. They go home. And they cuddle, or they go to sleep together.”

“Like a normal night, then?”

“Well…” Carlos hesitated. Even in the poor lighting, Cecil saw the red tinge on Carlos’ dark face. “Sometimes they stay up and try new things in bed.”

“New things like what?” Cecil teased, though he could probably guess. He wanted Carlos to give specifics, so that he could plan ahead for their own Valentine’s celebration.

“Well, not every couple has sex, of course,” Carlos said, looking at their intertwined hands. “But on Valentine’s Day, sometimes couples wear special outfits for each other. Like, sexy outfits, or costumes. Or they roleplay. Or they try new toys. Or they try new positions.”

Cecil leaned close to his boyfriend, noting how each option that he mentioned registered in his facial expressions. The latter suggestion seemed particularly appealing to him.

“Or they just spend a long time together, feeling loved. Feeling safe, like they belong,” Carlos was leaning forward now too, but he didn’t realize it consciously. “They feel like they’ve found someone who is just right. Someone perfect by their standards, in mind, and spirit, and body. Someone beautiful, with eyes that speak volumes, and a voice that reverberates through their whole form.”

“Are we still discussing a hypothetical couple, Carlos?” Cecil mused, not giving him a chance to reply before enveloping Carlos’ lips in his own.

Carlos made a small noise of surprise, though he wasn’t actually surprised at all. Their conversation really had no other way to end, with the two in such close quarters, bored of the bare walls and the silence. Carlos closed his eyes and sank into the kiss, wasting no time in crawling into Cecil’s lap.

“I’ll make sure you get the Valentine’s Day you really deserve, Carlos. I promise that,” Cecil murmured, interrupting every other word with a kiss. His lips were hot and soft, a direct contrast to the cold, hard cell. Carlos couldn’t help but think of how his relationship with Cecil contrasted so brightly with the bleak love life he’d had before Night Vale.

Carlos slid his hand up the back of Cecil’s jacket, palms flush against his skin. Cecil arched forward against Carlos, making the tent in the front of his shorts obvious.

“We can enact part of our Valentine’s plan early,” Carlos offered, grinding his crotch down on Cecil’s. He couldn’t help but smirk at the needy groan he received.

“I’ve never celebrated like this before,” Cecil sighed, pushing forward. He undulated his body steadily against Carlos’, rubbing their clothed erections together in the most sensual way. “But I thought you said couples try new things for Valentine’s?”

Carlos made a noncommittal noise of agreement, trying to reinitiate the kiss, watching Cecil with heavily lidded eyes. Cecil wrapped Carlos’ legs around his waist and hooked Carlos’ feet before standing, holding Carlos’ ass to prevent him from falling in surprise.

Cecil leaned him against the wall and put his lips against Carlos’ ear.

“I thought you said couples tried new positions?” Cecil breathed hotly.

Carlos would have melted, had he been composed of materials other than flesh and muscle and bone. Instead, a shiver ran through him, making the hairs on his arms stand up and drawing a shaky gasp from his parted lips. He wrapped his arms up around Cecil to support himself.

“Hold onto me,” Cecil said, using his free hand to undo first his own pants, then Carlos’.

“Wait, Cecil,” Carlos panted, ridiculously out of breath from the fleeting contact. “Aren’t there other people in this prison?”

Cecil thought about it only briefly, working to pull their waistbands down just enough for them to be comfortable.

“Yes, Carlos, there are a few other people here, I suppose,” he said.

Then, he pushed his exposed erection forward against Carlos’. He really didn’t care about the other inhabitants of the mine. They were on the lowest level, only accessible by the elevator they’d taken. If someone else were coming, they’d have plenty of time to prepare.

As the moment, though, there was only one type of preparation Cecil cared about. He lapped at his own fingers generously, coating them with adequate moisture, before reaching behind Carlos and beginning to open him up.

Carlos whined at the touch, the cold air of the cave tickling his bare skin wherever it became wet. He hid his face in Cecil’s neck as he let himself take each additional finger, relishing the stretching sensation.

After letting Carlos down for just long enough to remove his pants, Cecil decided to strip Carlos completely.

“And what about you?” Carlos mock-pouted. “What about your clothes?”

“What about me?” Cecil countered, already lifting Carlos back up against the wall. He closed his eyes to savor the hiss it drew from Carlos, the cold stone against his back momentarily silencing his complaints. Before he could speak again, Cecil lined his cock up with Carlos’ entrance, and thrust forward.

“It’s something new, sweet Carlos,” Cecil said, using his lowest, most sultry voice.

With that, Carlos gave in, sufficiently full and sufficiently wooed. Once more, he hooked his feet behind Cecil’s back, wrapped his arms around his neck, and held on for dear life. Cecil pulled out almost completely before pushing again with all of his might. As it turned out, all of Cecil’s might was rather powerful, and Carlos had no choice but to let out a cry of pleasure. He let his head fall back, squeezing his eyes shut as his skull thunked against the unmoving concrete.

Cecil took advantage of Carlos’ bare neck, nibbling and lapping at it greedily as he pounded Carlos into the wall. Knees bent, feet apart, Cecil felt incredibly powerful. He had the man he loved in the throes of pleasure, giving him what he wanted, whatever he wanted.

“Carlos, I love you so much,” Cecil panted against Carlos’ neck. “I’ll make sure I show it every way I can.”

Carlos nodded his head vigorously, giving a high-pitched “mhmm.” He’d heard Cecil, but was unable to process an eloquent reply through his overloaded brain. The heat in his belly and the friction in his ass and the pressure on his neck were juxtaposed by the dull pain in his head, a bruise from the wall, and the chilly stone behind him. All those things, mixed with the slight possibility of being discovered, had Carlos on the edge. After less than a minute of intercourse, Carlos wanted to cum.

He tried pushing his ignored cock forward for any amount of touch, but failed. Cecil was fucking him fast and hard, and there was no way Carlos could maneuver himself to meet that pace. He growled in frustration, tightening his legs around Cecil’s waist and chewing his lower lip.

“Is this a better Valentine’s Day?” Cecil said, laving his tongue over Carlos’ neck then blowing on it.

“Ceec, oh fuck, it’s great, you’re great,” Carlos blabbered, letting his thoughts go unfiltered through his damp lips.

Cecil heard the desperation in Carlos’ voice, and stopped to a dead halt, his cock deep in Carlos. He pulled his head back to look him directly in the eyes.

“What do you want, then, Carlos?” he asked.

Carlos had tears in his eyes, not from sadness, but from the pleasure of it all. The strangeness of their situation intensified each moment, and Carlos was ready for them to finish. His lips worked wordlessly for a moment before he regained the ability to speak somewhat logically.

“I wanna cum, Ceec, and I want you to cum in me,” he said hurriedly, trying to thrust against Cecil again, and failing again. “Oh, fuck, oh please!”

Cecil grinned, glad to put Carlos in such a heated state.

“Anything for you,” he said, and restarted his movements, pushing his hips forward deliberately. When he heard Carlos’ delicious little “Ah!” he knew he’d hit his prostate, and made sure to do it again. Soon, Carlos’ muscles were spasming around Cecil’s cock. Cecil pinned Carlos to the wall totally, buried to the hilt in the heat of his ass, and stroked Carlos’ throbbing erection.

Carlos grabbed handfuls of Cecil’s hair and pulled, letting Cecil experience the same confusing flurry of arousal he’d felt. Cecil made a pained noise as he jerked Carlos off, feeling hot trails of cum spurt out as Carlos orgasmed in his hand. Carlos bit his lip and groaned, tightening once more around Cecil’s length. With that, Cecil was cumming too, filling up Carlos even more.

The two stayed like that for a few minutes, soaking up the high of climax and slowing their breathing, before slowly returning to normal standing positions. Helping each other, they sat down. Cecil began cleaning them up with the tissues he’d packed. 

“That’s only part one of our special, personalized Valentine plan,” Cecil said, dabbing the white mess from Carlos’ tummy. 

“Can I ask what else is on the itinerary?” Carlos said, watching his boyfriend with admiration all over his face. Despite the earlier panic and confusion, he felt all right now. He felt safe and loved.

Cecil winked at Carlos as he retrieved the pile of Carlos’ clothes against the wall.

“Something wonderful. Something big,” he said cheekily. “Only the best for my Valentine.”


	5. In the Lab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew this was going to happen. They do it in Carlos' lab.

Cecil didn’t get many days off of work. But, one particular Friday in June, Cecil was excused early. His show had been cancelled after Station Management went on a rampage caused by the lack of coffee in the break room. Cecil’s booth had been set afire, so he was free for the evening. He drove home, unbelievably excited. Having a night off was a rarity, and he had so many options available to him now.

He could paint, or binge-watch Netflix, or practice woodcarving, or rearrange the bloodstones in their house. Or he could cook a big dinner for Carlos to come home to.

A whole evening with Carlos would be the best thing of all, he thought. And, he thought, an evening spent in bed with Carlos would be wonderful.

He smiled to himself as he rustled through his dresser, finding his favorite frilly underthings. Then, he changed, getting more excited by the minute. He went into the bathroom to freshen up, and called Carlos as he was combing his hair.

“Hiya, Ceec,” Carlos answered. “How’s your day been?”

Cecil held in a giggle. He could hardly wait.

“Oh, you know,” he drawled out, “the usual. Station Management causing mayhem, interns mysteriously disappearing. It’s been a very average day, I suppose, except for one thing…. I got the night off!”

There was a clinking of glass on the other end and the shifting sound of paper before Carlos replied.

“Oh, that’s great!” he said. Nothing else.

“So, um,” Cecil went on, twirling his hair between his fingers, “I thought you could come home early too?”

He tried to sound optimistic.

“Gee, Ceec, uh,” Carlos said, hesitant. “I’m, uh… I’m working on something kinda big here. I’m really sorry, I really am, but this experiment is really sensitive, and I’ve been working on it for days, and—“

“Carlos,” Cecil cut him off. He sighed, resting his chin in his hand. “Of course it’s alright.”

“I really am sorry,” Carlos said, sounding miserable. “I feel awful now.”

“Don’t you dare feel awful, Carlos, your work is very important,” Cecil said firmly, but kindly. “I’ll see you whenever you get home.”

“I love you, Ceec,” Carlos said.

“I love you too, Carlos,” Cecil said, hearing the click as Carlos hung up.

Cecil stared at the phone in his hand, his hope dashed away. Then, he got another idea. He put a dress and jacket on, packed up some leftovers, grabbed his car keys, and left.

If Carlos couldn’t come see him, he’d go see Carlos.

When Cecil arrived at the lab, the sun was already setting, and the parking lot was all but empty. In addition to Cecil and Carlos’ cars, there was only one other. Cecil parked by the front door and walked in, happy to have found a compromise to his original plan.

“I’m looking for the handsomest scientist in Night Vale,” Cecil called across the lab, mock confusion in his voice. “I was told he’d be here tonight?”

“Cecil?” came a woman’s voice. Carlos’ lab-mate, Rochelle, peeked out from behind a fume hood, pink goggles sitting atop her impossibly curly hair. “Good to see you, Cecil. That’s a lovely dress! Carlos is in the back room.”

Cecil cheerfully thanked her and went to the door at the back of the lab, which lead to a small room with a few tables, a white board, and a window looking back out into the lab Cecil had just walked through.

Cecil rapped lightly on the doorframe, leaning into the room cautiously.

Carlos was in the corner of the room, studying a vial of bright orange liquid, his back to Cecil. When he heard the knock, he jumped a little.  
“Yes?” he said as he turned.

Cecil just smiled at him, a nonverbal “Here I am!”

“Cecil!” Carlos was grinning widely now, and he took one step towards Cecil, before remembering the chemical in his hand and bringing his foot back. “Sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re here. Come see this, it’s really neat.”

Cecil obeyed, weaving his way though the tables covered in intricate cities of wire stands, glass containers, and colorful, bubbling liquids. He hugged Carlos from behind, looking over Carlos’ shoulder to see what he was doing. Carlos’ hair smelled musky, like smoke and science. It wasn’t a bad smell, really. His hands, which were covered in thick black gloves, worked neatly. He was swishing the orange vial around, the contents fizzing and turning a milky green. The other hand stirred a beaker full of something clear, perched up on a wire stand over a Bunsen burner.

“That is most definitely science, if I’ve ever seen it,” Cecil said.

“That it is,” Carlos said. “The other day, I noticed that the grass in Night Vale doesn’t grow. This struck me as odd for two reasons: One, there’s grass growing in the desert. And two, it never grows. It never dies, or gets longer, or spreads out.”

“I thought that all grass was like that,” Cecil wondered aloud. “It doesn’t do much. Why should it?”

“Well, plants have a tendency to grow, Ceec,” Carlos went on, setting the vial into an empty beaker and picking up an eyedropper full of water. “But look.”

He gently squeezed the dropper, a bit of water splashing into the vial. As soon as it made contact with the strange liquid, it fizzled into steam.

“The grass is surviving off of heat instead of photosynthesis. They metabolize warm temperatures!” Carlos concluded.

Cecil was fairly lost at this point, but wanted Carlos to know that he was listening.

“Oh, wow, Carlos! That’s…wow,” he smiled at Carlos, who was positively glowing. “How do they do it, then?”

Carlos’ eyebrows scrunched down and he pouted.

“I can’t exactly figure that out. I’m trying several prolonged exposure tests to see if I can solve this problem. The answer could have huge implications in the study of plants, or sunlight, or even evolution,” he turned and pecked Cecil’s cheek as best as he could. “That’s why I couldn’t come home. I hope you understand.”

Cecil gave him a kiss, too.

“I do. And that’s why I came here. Even a groundbreaking scientific prodigy like you needs dinner.”

Cecil pulled the Tupperware from his bag and pulled up a stool by Carlos.

Carlos’ face turned red.

“Cecil, you’re so amazingly thoughtful, but I could risk contamination,” he began.

“I’ll feed you then,” Cecil chirped, more than happy to help Carlos’ work in any way he could.

Carlos kissed him once more before continuing his experiment, adjusting the flame under the beaker and pulling out a thermometer. Cecil offered a forkful of food, which Carlos gratefully took.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Carlos asked, worriedly, after he’d swallowed.

“We’ll take turns eating a bite each.”

Carlos nodded, satisfied, and turned his attention back to the beaker that was now whistling an eerie note.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Every now and then, Carlos would make a noise of frustration or triumph, and Cecil would empathize. Cecil wasn’t a scientist, but he could appreciate hard work and passion. As they finished their dinner, they heard keys jingling from the front lab.

“Goodnight, guys,” Rochelle called from the front door. “Don’t stay up too late, you need your sleep!”

The two men wished her a good night, the disturbance waking them up from the routine they’d fallen into. Cecil stood from his spot, arching his back and extending his hands over his head, joints popping.

“Hon, you can go home and sleep if you’re tired,” Carlos said, yawning.

“Someone needs to make sure you don’t fall asleep on that Bunsen burner,” Cecil teased, ruffling Carlos’ hair. “Besides, there’s nothing there for me if you’re here.”

Carlos blushed again.

“Didn’t you have plans to do something nice on your evening off?”

“Well, kind of,” Cecil said, before venturing: “I kind of had planned to do you.”

Carlos nearly dropped the test tube he’d been peering through. He shook his head a little to regain his composure.

“Oh, ah,” he stuttered.

Cecil shrugged out of his jacket, the straps of his lingerie peeking out from the shoulders of his dress.

“See?” Cecil said, sultriness creeping into his voice. “I was going to have myself all ready for you and everything.”

Carlos’ eyes were wide, his mouth working wordlessly, test tube beginning to slip from his fingers.

“Ceec,” he finally managed, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ceec, it’s dangerous to, ah, in the lab, you see,”

Cecil quieted him with a kiss, deliberate and drawn out. He guided Carlos’ hand to the test tube rack and helped him set it down safely.

“How long can your work sit unattended, then?” Cecil murmured against Carlos’ lips, pulling Carlos’ gloves off. This compromise of coming to lab was working even better than he’d hoped.

“I shouldn’t leave it unattended at all,” Carlos said, struggling to keep his voice even.

Cecil’s lips hovered over Carlos’. Cecil looked down at Carlos’ face, searching for a sign of whether or not he should go on. Carlos was chewing his own lower lip, trying to look at anything besides Cecil.

“Someone could come into the lab,” Carlos said.

Cecil’s mouth quirked into a mischievous little smile. He leaned down by Carlos’ ear and ran his hands down Carlos’ torso, stopping at his hips, where he slid his fingers up under Carlos’ shirt.

“Would you like it if someone walked in, Carlos?” he breathed in Carlos’ ear, earning a soft whimper from the scientist.

Cecil kissed under Carlos’ ear, down to the point where his jaw met his neck, and lavished the sensitive area with his tongue. Carlos’ hands were on Cecil’s shoulders, holding on to keep himself standing, his knees quivering.

Cecil dipped his tongue into the hollow below Carlos’ throat.

“Keep an eye on your experiment, Carlos,” Cecil teased, then added: “And keep an eye on the front door.”

Carlos was going to ask Cecil what he was doing, but never got the chance to form a question. In a split second, Cecil had dropped to his knees, his hot mouth closing over the erection in Carlos’ jeans.

Carlos gasped and held onto Cecil’s shoulders, leaning against the lab table for support.

“Ceec, we shouldn’t,” he said, his protests becoming weaker.

Cecil stopped, looking up at Carlos demurely from under his eyelashes.

“You don’t want me to suck you off?” he asked innocently.

Carlos didn’t stand a chance.

“I really do,” Carlos said, surrendering.

Cecil gave him a charming smile, and then went to work on Carlos’ belt and pants, pulling his jeans down just enough. Carlos had fought valiantly, considering how erect he was. His cock sprung from the waistband of his boxers, and he hissed at the cool air on his bare skin.

Cecil took the base in his hand and kneaded patiently, watching how Carlos’ cock twitched in anticipation. He blew gently against the head, lapped at it once, and blew again. Carlos shivered under his touch.

“Oh gods, Ceec,” Carlos breathed out. His hands now rested in Cecil’s hair, gentle but urging. He was pushing Cecil’s head forward only slightly, not daring to do more.

“It’s too bad we’re not home, Carlos,” Cecil sighed, “we could have done this in our own bed, where no one could have walked in on us.”

Carlos’ gaze flickered once to the front door, which remained closed on the other side of their room’s window. The idea on being seen made his heart race.

Rather than let Carlos suffer another moment, Cecil leaned forward quickly, taking Carlos’ whole cock into his mouth. The head hit the back of Cecil’s throat, and Carlos moaned. Cecil pulled back and pushed forward again, bobbing his head steadily, rubbing the base in his hand. Carlos arched forward, fighting to keep his eyes open to watch for any sign of intruders.

Cecil ran his tongue along the underside of Carlos’ cock before lapping at the head again and dipping into his slit. Cecil relished the pulling of his hair as Carlos began to fall apart over him.

“Cecil, if you don’t stop, I’m going to cum,” he moaned helplessly.

Cecil pulled away, rubbing Carlos with his hand as he spoke.

“That’s no good, my dear Carlos, that won’t do at all. I mean, you haven’t seen what’s under my dress yet,” he said, kissing the head of Carlos’ cock before stopping his administrations completely and standing.

A crackling sound interrupted Cecil’s next thought, and the two men looked for the source. The flask over the burner had begun to boil, its contents shooting bubbles up from the rim, which were popping like tiny fireworks.

Carlos cursed and pulled his gloves on as quickly as he could. He turned the flame down low and stirred the liquid inside, checking the thermometer, and letting out a “phew!”

“It almost boiled over,” he explained. When he looked back at Cecil, he lost his train of thought, breathe hitching.

Cecil had taken off his dress, folded it neatly, and set it aside. He now stood before Carlos dressed in very little fabric. He was running his hands over his own body, worshipping every angle and curve, looking like an absolute god.

Cecil’s torso was wrapped in a silky black bodice, and from it, a weaving mass of lace straps crisscrossed its way up and over Cecil’s shoulders. Below, a pair of skimpy black panties hid nothing. The lace stretched over Cecil’s hips, his skin peeking out from the delicate gaps in the pattern. The fabric prominently outlined Cecil’s cock, and Carlos could’ve cried. He wanted nothing more than to spend all night undressing Cecil as slowly as he could, to tease his beautiful Cecil out of those straps like a gift. 

Once Cecil decided he’d been properly admired, he closed the gap between them, placing a chaste kiss on Carlos’ lips. Carlos whimpered as Cecil’s hand found his erection once more, rubbing him back to full hardness. Cecil’s tongue slid between Carlos’ lips, kisses getting more urgent. He pulled his own cock out and led Carlos’ hand up his thigh. 

Carlos tugged Cecil’s panties down more and pushed forward, rubbing their erections together. It was Cecil’s turn to moan, then, as Carlos’ precum made their thrusts all the more pleasurable.

“Carlos,” Cecil purred. “Do you want to get a better look at the back?”

He turned then, pulling from Carlos’ grasp to display the other side of his getup. The straps met in an intricate knot in the middle of his back, the ends of the straps trailing down the small of his back. And the back on the panties made Carlos moan in appreciation. They were cut to accentuate the curve of Cecil’s ass to the fullest, the fabric covering just a bit over his cheeks.

Cecil ran his hands up his hips before leaning over a section of open lab table. He turned his head, looking at Carlos from over his shoulder.

“Good?” he asked playfully.

Carlos’ resolve melted away, and he leaned forward over Cecil to run his hands up Cecil’s tummy, under his bodice, fingers brushing over Cecil’s nipples. Cecil hummed approvingly, pushing his ass back against Carlos’ cock.

Cecil pulled one of Carlos’ hands up from his chest and took three of the digits into his mouth, sucking loudly and running his tongue around them. Carlos bucked against Cecil’s thighs, smearing them wet.

“Get me ready, then,” Cecil said, kissing Carlos’ knuckles before letting go.

Carlos wasted no time in opening Cecil up, prodding his hole until his finger slid in. Cecil made a little sound, a gasp of delight. He tried to fuck himself back on Carlos’ finger, and Carlos’ hand disappeared.

“Carlos,” Cecil whined, “give it to me, please.”

Carlos clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Hon, you can’t interrupt an experiment and get me into a position like this, then expect to have all the control,” he put his hand back at Cecil’s entrance, slipping three fingers in without warning. “Especially if you want something from me.”

Cecil’s eyelids fluttered shut, overtaken with lust. He loved when Carlos got controlling, and it seemed that Cecil’s pestering had been the right strategy to bring out this side of him.

Cecil rocked with the push and stretch of Carlos’ fingers, letting himself be worked. He parted his legs to a comfortable width, the cool table under him beginning to warm up from contact with his skin.

Carlos ran his free hand over Cecil’s body, exploring the gently rolling slopes of lace and silk. He cupped Cecil’s ass and gave a little squeeze before removing his fingers and spanking him softly, not nearly enough to hurt.

Cecil’s breathing rate began to pick up as he waited. He knew Carlos was slicking his cock up, running a saliva-wet hand over the length, giving it a few good tugs. He touched his own cock, which had begun to leak against the cabinets under the lab table.

Cecil put his hands back on the tabletop to brace himself as Carlos began to push into him, fingers clutching uselessly across the smooth surface. Once Carlos had himself all the way in, he got a good grip on Cecil’s hips, then plowed forward.

Cecil let out a cry of pleasure and he was thrown forward against the table, Carlos bucking hard into him. He arched his back, sure to give Carlos the best view possible, panting as his cock rubbed up against the side of the table.

“Oh, fuck, I’m glad you came here, Ceec,” Carlos said, panting just as hard as Cecil. He slapped Cecil’s ass again, just a little harder, rubbing it to sooth the skin immediately after.

Cecil yelped at the slap, loving the warm sting it made, a perfect contrast to the cold table under him. He cock swung between his legs, untouched, as he was afraid to release his hold for fear of falling over.

“Carlos,” Cecil panted, “Carlos, please touch me.”

Carlos leaned forward, enveloping Cecil’s body with his own, reaching around him to grab his cock. He began to jack Cecil off in tempo with his thrusts, sucking and licking at Cecil’s shoulder between gasps of breathe.

“Fuck, not quite,” Carlos moaned, and pulled out of Cecil.

Cecil whimpered at the sudden emptiness, until he felt himself being flipped over so that his back was now on the table, and his legs were up over Carlos’ shoulders, and Carlos was holding him up by his hips. Cecil took that quick break to look over his lover, to admire the state he was in. 

Then, they were back at it. Carlos was fucking Cecil against the table in their new position, and Cecil was touching his own body again, unable to reach Carlos.

And just as Cecil felt the hot coil of an orgasm building in his lower stomach, he heard that awful crackling again. Somehow, despite the lowered heat, the fluid in the beaker was about to boil over again.

“Carlos,” Cecil whimpered, “Carlos, please don’t stop, please.”

Carlos was swearing, clutching Cecil’s hips tighter, nails digging into flesh.

“Come for me, Cecil, touch yourself,” Carlos moaned, brows knitted in desperation. He couldn’t bear to kill his pleasure, and he knew that they were both close to climaxing.

Cecil was happy to oblige, licking his hand before taking his cock and pumping as quickly as he could.

“Fuck me harder,” he begged, and Carlos was also happy to oblige. He leaned forward and redoubled his pace, hips snapping at uneven intervals.

Cecil forced his eyes open, watching Carlos, knowing that view would help him more than closing his eyes could. Carlos’ forehead was shining with a thin layer of sweat, and his lab coat had fallen off one of his shoulders. His face was red again, and his lips were red, too, from their kissing. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were glazed over in desperate want. 

Carlos noticed Cecil staring, and he gave him a devilish little smile, and returned his gaze. And that was all it took; Cecil shouted out as he felt his climax hit, head falling back, eyes falling closed. His hand worked his cock, spurts of white coming out over the black of his bodice.

The throbbing and twitching of Cecil’s orgasm had Carlos cumming right after, hips jerking as he emptied himself into Cecil, his tight heat accepting the wet mess.

As soon as he was done, Carlos carefully slid out of Cecil, helping him up to sit on the counter, making sure he was steady. Then, he hopped over to the Bunsen burner, tugged his gloves on, checked the temperature, and turned the flame off.

Cecil watched through heavily lidded eyes, feeling his breath return to normal.

“Is it alright?” Cecil said softly, his voice raspy.

Carlos wrote down some notes on a pad of paper before setting his pen down and taking his gloves off.

“It needed to boil over to be complete,” he said, incredulous. He shook his head and kissed Cecil gingerly on the temple. “You’re a great scientist, Cecil.”

Cecil smiled and let Carlos help him up, and then they went to the bathroom, got a drink of water, and cleaned up as best they could. As Carlos was helping Cecil into his jacket, he heard a knock at the front door.

“It’s unlocked,” Carlos called, hugging Cecil to make sure he was steady.

Rochelle peeked her head in the front door.

“Is it safe for me to come in now? I forgot my phone,” she said, trying hard not to laugh.

Carlos’ jaw dropped. Rochelle must have seen them having sex in the lab. He’d forgotten to watch for people coming in for the last few minutes.

Rochelle came in, grabbed her phone from her work station, and turned to leave.

“Go home, guys,” she called. “Now you really need to get some sleep.”


	6. In a Restaurant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly guys, control yourselves. I think they want to be caught.

On weekdays, Carlos and Cecil’s dinner plans varied. They made sure to get their legally required Big Rico’s at least once, and sometimes ate Arby’s, or easy meals at home. On Saturdays, Carlos and Cecil went out to eat. Since Carlos usually had weekends off, they used that extra time to go to the sit-down restaurants of Night Vale, where they could relax and talk.

One such Saturday, their date was especially nice. Cecil had finally gotten them reservations at Tourniquet, the classiest eatery in town. As the sun began to set over the desert, they got into Carlos’ car, and headed out. They’d both dressed for the occasion. Carlos had a nicely colored dress shirt under his fanciest lab coat, and Cecil had put on one of his more conservative dresses. It hugged him just right, the deep purple velvet standing out against his skin.

Carlos rested his hand on Cecil’s thigh as he drove, stroking the luxurious fabric absentmindedly.

“Carlos, you’re going to absolutely love this place,” Cecil was saying, face lit up in excitement. “I’ve heard great things from my coworkers. And Steve said it has an atmosphere that unsettles, like waking up in an unfamiliar room.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows, struck by the accurate description of what “unsettling” felt like. He wondered if eating at Tourniquet was a bad idea.

“If Steve thinks it’s bad,” Cecil concluded, “I know it will be outstanding.”

Carlos chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot, choosing a spot away from the flames engulfing the restaurant’s windows.

“How sophisticated!” Cecil said. “The fire around the windows means that, after our dinner, we’ll have to find another exit or risk bodily harm. That’s so creative, I would’ve never thought of that.”

Carlos agreed, as he would have never thought of that either.

Once inside, a pale, blindfolded woman greeted them in a strange language, her words seeming to chill their skin. She clutched two menus to her chest before turning and beginning a path further into the building. Carlos and Cecil followed, arm in arm. With lurching steps, she led them through a dark room, which had a crunchy substance covering the floor. After crossing the room, they came upon a narrow beam of light, as if the exit were only a foot wide.

This actually turned out to be the case, as they watched the woman wriggle her way though the tiny gap. Carlos and Cecil turned to make it through, facing each other and inching along. The door turned out to be more of a short tunnel, and they found their feet and shoulders bumping against each other. Laughter and apologies and teasing made the ominous atmosphere a little lighter.

Before they exited the passageway, Cecil snuck a squeeze of Carlos’ butt.

“Hey!” Carlos exclaimed, mock-scandalized.

Cecil looked past Carlos with a tiny smile, a portrait of innocence.

“Those trousers look really good on you,” Cecil offered.

Carlos grinned as he and Cecil left the narrow pass, looking out to the area they’d entered. They were in a small, dim room, big enough for one table, two chairs, a pair of men, and a waitress. However, the waitress had seemingly disappeared. Carlos looked around the room and up at the ceiling, noting how there were no exits other than the way they’d come in. There was a single window, but it was undisturbed, its flames reflecting off the panes and bouncing across the walls of the room. The fire was the only lighting.

“How romantic!” Cecil said, admiring the hardwood floors, the tall ceilings, the long tablecloth, and the dark color scheme.

Carlos held out a chair, which Cecil gratefully accepted, and then pushed him up to the table. Carlos took that chance to bend down and steal a kiss, then blow gently in Cecil’s ear, which drew a squeal from the radio host.

“Now we’re even, don’t you think?” Carlos chided, taking his own seat.

Cecil had a glint of determination in his eye, his competitive side showing.

“Yes, I suppose that makes us even,” he said. “For now.”

The two opened up their menus, exchanging comments about which dishes sounded good (the wine-basted mahi-mahi) and which were the most creative (something called an “omelet,” which Cecil guessed was foreign). As they talked, Cecil crept one foot forward, until he was able to rub his ankle against Carlos’.

“I thought we were even?” Carlos said, laying his menu down.

Before Cecil could reply, the waitress had returned. There had been no sound or indication of her approach, but Carlos decided not to dwell on it. She held a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses, which she dropped onto the table. Miraculously, the glasses landed upright. The waitress popped the cork out with her teeth and ate it noisily as she poured the drinks.

“You ordered this ahead of time?” Carlos guessed, looking to Cecil for confirmation. Cecil shook his head and shrugged.

“Courtesy of Chef Harlan,” the waitress said in her grating voice, before turning and walking straight through the wall.

“Is she a…a ghost?” Carlos sputtered, taken aback; he stared at the wall she’d gone through. He’d heard about spirits in town, and even seen a few during the wheat and wheat by-product crisis. Those spirits had been dark, shapeless creatures. This one seemed almost human.

“I sure think so,” Cecil said.

This surprised Carlos, not because of the content of Cecil’s answer, but because of the context. Cecil’s voice sounded low and muffled, as if he was talking through fabric. Carlos looked back to Cecil’s chair, which now sat empty. His brain finally caught up as he felt hands taking ahold of his thighs and beginning to rub.

“Cecil!” Carlos said, jumping.

“Hmm?” Cecil hummed from under the tablecloth.

Carlos lifted the cloth and bent down to look at Cecil.

“Ceec, what are you up to down there?” Carlos asked, already knowing the answer, but hoping his scolding tone might dissuade him.

“Nothing,” Cecil said, as he clearly did something, as he pressed warm kisses to the inside of Carlos’ knees, then his thighs.

“Our waitress will be back any minute,” Carlos tried.

Cecil gave dismissive shrug, blowing a cool breath over Carlos’ crotch and then rubbing it. Carlos dropped the tablecloth back down as his muscles disobeyed him, a shudder racking his body. Cecil took this as a sign of defeat, working at Carlos’ crotch til his cock hardened, tenting the fabric. Cecil began to mouth at the firm outline without undoing Carlos’ pants, sucking and kneading with his lips.

Carlos chewed his own lower lip, torn between lust and anxiety. He knew that doing things like this in public were wrong, that Night Vale’s laws were stricter than most other town’s laws. He knew that their waitress seemed to be a malevolent spirit, and that she may have any number of supernatural abilities, which she may use on misbehaving patrons. He also knew that Cecil was doing something wonderful to him, that his mouth was talented in more than just speaking.

Carlos lifted the tablecloth again and looked down at Cecil, whose face had taken on a lovely blush as he played with Carlos. Cecil pulled back and looked up, pupils blown, and Carlos saw that Cecil had begun to rub his own erection through his dress.

“Oh, gods, Ceec,” Carlos groaned, fully aroused by the shameless sight. In Cecil’s attempt at revenge, he’d gone overboard, and was now too worked up to stop.

Cecil leaned forward again and bit very lightly at Carlos’ cock, just for pressure, and maintained eye contact. Carlos couldn’t stand it, seeing his Cecil unraveled there on his knees, hungrily watching him. 

The sounds of clicking footsteps made Carlos snap his head up to look at the narrow doorway.

“Ceec, someone’s coming,” Carlos whispered, pushing Cecil back just enough to ensure that Cecil understood the urgency of the situation.

Cecil had just crawled out from under the table when Earl Harlan entered the room. Carlos shifted to cover his arousal with the tablecloth, and Cecil slid back into his chair.

“Hey there, Earl, um… I was just… Admiring the beautiful desert view through that window. Through the flames outside the window, I mean, I was admiring the flames. The flames are a nice touch, alright, my compliments to the designer, there. Those are the most admirable flames I’ve seen.”

Carlos stared at his menu, mentally willing Cecil to stop talking.

“Ah, yes, those are one-of-a-kind installations,” Earl said, confused by Cecil’s flustered speech. “They’re very dangerous; make sure you don’t touch them. Fire tends to be rather hot.”

Cecil laughed unnaturally and Carlos had to speak before Cecil could.

“Of course,” Carlos said. “Thank you. And how are you, Earl? How’s the job?”

They made small talk, and Earl seemed to forget his confusion. Cecil shifted in his seat a few times, fidgeting with the menu, or the silverware, or the glass of champagne. Carlos leaned forward over the table, hunched so that there was no way Earl could see the state he was in. Both Cecil and Carlos were flushed, with a thin sheen of sweat on their brows, and dark pupils. They hoped that these things could be dismissed as excitement for the new restaurant, or reactions to the fire in their window.

“I guess I better head back into the kitchen. I need to make sure the radishes don’t kill anyone else,” Earl said, laughing humorlessly.

“Okay Earl, thank you,” Cecil said, clutching at his spoon. “And could you please tell our waitress that we need a few more minutes to decide our order? This menu is just so great, there’s just no way we can choose our food quickly.”

Earl seemed happy with that, and he agreed to convey the request, before heading back through the door.

The white of his kitchen smock had barely disappeared before Cecil had ducked back under the table, skinning his knees in the rush. Carlos undid his pants, unable to stand the restriction, and let out a great breath, relieved to have Earl gone at last.

Cecil made a small desperate sound, pulling Carlos’ cock out and tugging at it, lapping precum from the head and blowing to chill the wetness. Carlos wove his fingers into Cecil’s hair, giving an impatient tug and earning a moan from Cecil. Carlos heard Cecil jacking himself off, the wet sound of skin-on-skin.

Carlos could have cum right then from it all, from hearing Cecil’s neediness, but held himself back. He didn’t want to cum on his pants if he could help it, and he knew Cecil would need more stimulation to orgasm.

Cecil began to trace along Carlos’ cock, dipping his tongue in the slit and playing with the head before licking up the underside and tickling the base. Carlos began to pant at the sensation, Cecil proving his expertise. Cecil began to suck at the head, slowly leaning forward until he had all of Carlos in his mouth, the tip brushing the back of his throat. He hummed, the vibrations shaking Carlos’ whole body.

Cecil pulled away for a moment to breath, looking up at Carlos wantonly before swallowing him again and beginning to bob his head, the slick sound echoing off the walls, absolutely pornographic. Carlos gripped the seat of his chair and arched his back, bucking his hips a few times, unable to hold back.

“Mhmm, mhmm” Cecil whined each time Carlos thrust, glad to cause so much pleasure in his lover.

Carlos finally felt the heat in his body localizing to his belly, felt his climax nearing. He clutched Cecil’s hair and stilled his head, instead choosing to rock slowly forward and back, careful not to choke Cecil. Cecil put his hands on Carlos’ thighs and pushed away firmly, pulling back.

For a moment, Carlos was worried that he’d been too rough with Cecil.

“Carlos, you don’t need to be so gentle,” Cecil said, kissing the head of his cock. “If you want us to be even, pay me back for starting this trouble.”

Carlos only watched Cecil, unsure if he was teasing or being serious.

Cecil proved he was serious. He began to jack himself off with a renewed verve.

Then, he placed his lips against Carlos’ throbbing cock and murmured: “Fuck me.”

Carlos’ self control dissipated and he grabbed Cecil’s head again, hips snapping forward to envelop his cock in Cecil’s hot mouth, pushing into his throat, shaft rubbing on his wet lips. Cecil was moaning and panting and rubbing his own cock, free hand holding onto Carlos’ thigh, eyes squeezed shut at the onslaught of pleasure and pain. 

Then Carlos felt himself tip over the edge. He was cumming, body convulsing, hot ejaculate spilling down Cecil’s throat, mouth hanging open. And Cecil was cumming, raspy moans around Carlos’ cock, white mess splattering the floor and splattering Carlos’ shoes.

“Fuck…” Carlos breathed out as Cecil pulled back. He handed Cecil a napkin, which Cecil used to wipe his hand as he stood. Carlos helped, using another napkin to dab his mess from Cecil’s face. They cleaned up as best as they could, and fixed their clothes, and sat back down in their respective chairs.

They held their menus up again, pretending that they’d been sitting properly the whole time. Cecil smirked at Carlos, a small laugh escaping him.

“Now, we’re even,” Cecil said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another swerve from Cecearlos. Maybe someday.


End file.
